


Jerking Off

by Trammel



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner Feels, M/M, Masturbation, Nightmares, Science Bros, Tony Stark Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-15 05:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8044168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trammel/pseuds/Trammel
Summary: It's around three in the morning. Avengers Tower is practically deserted and silence reigns: in his room, Bruce Banner is struggling in the sheets, in the grip of nightmares, capturing the attention of Tony Stark, who can't sleep because there are too many thoughts in his head. Will his extended wakefulness, desire to break the silence and the absence of the other Avengers lead the rigid Stark to relax and open up to the man that everybody has always thought of as his "science bro"? Especially by Tony?(Translation of an Italian story)Original author's note: --- Stanner, with strong mentions of masturbation (really?!), scenes not suitable for children and vulgarity. I haven't read the comics; I've only seen the movies, so the story will definitely have some mistakes. Hope you can forgive me.My note: The Italian is very well written. Any clunkiness in the phrasing is my fault.





	1. Just Like Honey

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Masturbazioni](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7375921) by [Poetessia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poetessia/pseuds/Poetessia). 



> Not mine! Translation from Italian!

_"Hey, asshole!"_

_Bruce kept on walking._

"Relax, he's not talking to you."

"I know you heard me!"

He sped up a bit, getting nervous.

"He's not talking to you."

_The sound of quick footfalls behind Bruce came ever closer. Then a hand slapped down hard on his back. It was the hand of a large, tall man, whose face was purple with rage. Even though he felt his nervousness grow, the doctor turned, his face calm._

_"Can I help you?"_

Thought the man was just a few inches from the other's face, he kept yelling.

_"You stole my parking space, asshole!"_

_Bruce felt drops of cold sweat break out on his forehead. When he started speaking again, his voice was uncertain._

"I'm not even driving..." he tried to weakly defend himself, getting a punch in the face in reply.

_He didn't even have a chance to think: in just a few seconds, succumbing to what had now become his nature, he changed color, growing exponentially and taking on almost grotesque features. The man, who had now become very small, was squeezed in his right fist, and continued to shout, now in fear._

_"Put me down! Come on, I guess I was wrong..."_

_In reply, Hulk let out a kind of guttural roar, squeezing the man and waiting for the sound of his bones crunching in Hulk's fingers, so he could blindly relish the sound._

"Banner."

_Hulk looked around him, suspicious, dropping the man to the ground. Who dared mention the puny doctor?_

"Banner, wake up. You're shaking."

 

Even in the dark, Bruce recognized the ceiling of his room in the Avengers Tower. Seized with an uncontrollable urge, he frenetically ran his hands over his own body, to be sure that he was Bruce Banner and not the Other Guy. His hands were shaking and his eyes were wet. Only then did he notice that a dim blue light was shining to his right.

He immediately felt embarrassed.

"Calm down. Come and give me a hand," Tony Stark said, moving away without making a big deal of his friend's harsh awakening. Bruce rubbed his eyes vigorously, trying to calm down. He kicked off the blankets with a sharp movement, getting up and trying to get his thoughts together. Lucidity started coming back as he moved towards the common areas.

"Aren't you cold?" Tony was in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning limply against the doorframe, wearing a worn old pair of jeans and a faded Black Sabbath t-shirt.

Only then did Bruce realize he was wearing just an old pair of shorts, but despite that he wasn't embarrassed: he and the other Avengers spent so much time together that they were comfortable with each other, even to the extent that Natasha's habit of running around naked didn't faze them. "Nope," he waived Tony off, walking into the kitchen. "But wait, why am I in my pjs? I think I blacked out..." he murmured.

"You passed out on the couch while Capsicle and I were playing pool. Then the others left, I think they went to a party or something, aside from Thor, who went to see Jane. You got up, completely out of it, mumbled something and went to bed. I didn't feel like going out so I snacked a bit." He reeled off "You want a coffee?"

Bruce answered with the same muttered no as before, opening the fridge and starting to root through it.

"Well, I'm gonna go back there for a minute." Tony said, leaving the kitchen in silence.

Bruce sighed loudly, turning on the burner under a pan and starting to fix himself something to eat: the nightmares had begun to torment him, making it hard for him to fall asleep, granting him only snatches of rest, and likely to create a vicious cycle which, he was certain, would make him go crazy.

"When I dream about the Other Guy I'm irritable and when I'm irritable…" he said quietly to himself, without finishing the sentence, unsuccessfully attempting to concentrate on the stove.  

"Shit!" he shouted, punching the hood with all his strength and hoping that getting rid of his negative emotions would help him stave off the worst.

Tony's comment followed quickly.

"Nervous, huh Banner?»

"Don't talk to me about it," Bruce cut him off, grabbing a mug and a box of cookies from the nearest shelf and pouring the contents of the pan into the mug. Tony shrugged in a sign of surrender.

"Sure, no problem. But you know that the night is long, so we'd better figure out something to talk about unless you want to go back to bed right away."

Bruce didn't answer, so that Tony wouldn't provoke him any further.

"You're really not cold?"

Bruce turned, smiling sarcastically, gesturing to himself with wide sweeps of his arms.

"What, does it embarrass you?"

"Ha!" Tony laughed, pouring himself a coffee and sitting at the table in front of the stove.

"I wouldn't be embarrassed even if you caught me jerking off. No, I just think it's strange, that's all. I'm just chilly," he concluded, shrugging and drinking his coffee. Bruce sat down across from him.

"Milk and cookies?" Tony chuckled sarcastically "How old are you exactly?"

Bruce didn't even look up, just concentrated on his food. "I didn't know I was too young," he joked back. Tony laughed heartily, sounding almost tender.

"It's just…funny, that's all. I thought you were the armchair, reading glasses, strange Indian tea and huge Russian books type."

"I'm full of surprises," Bruce simply cut him short: he seemed to hear a whispered mumble from Tony, but ignored it.

Silence fell, but not for long; it was broken by Tony tapping his fingers on the table. Tony seemed nervous, like the silence was suffocating him.

Bruce softened his tone.

"Everything ok?"

Tony stared at him with a strange expression.

"Sure!" he replied with his usual audacious confidence "Why?"

"You're the one that said we have to find something to talk about."

"I don't really like the quiet," Tony agreed. "I was listening to some music earlier, a weird playlist that Jarvis came up with."

"Which is?"

Tony pulled a smartphone out of his pocket, his fingers flying over it, starting to play a song with an 80's sound, soft, the singer's voice delicate, almost dreamy.

Bruce let out a small huff of laughter. "Doesn't a dirge like that put you to sleep?"

"It's only 2:30, it'll take a while before I fall asleep".

"Well, if you keep drinking coffee..."

Tony shrugged to show he didn't care. "I don't sleep anyway, so I might as well enjoy something I like. And to be honest, I like these guys, despite their stupid name. So, what more could I want? The tower quiet, some music, a coffee and nobody around to bother me."

"I'm here," Bruce reminded him.

"You're different," it seemed to come out against Tony's will. For a fleeting moment, he seemed embarrassed to Bruce.

"You're not always strutting around like those two," he explained, alluding to Steve and Thor, annoyed. "You either get involved or you help me," he concluded, finishing off his coffee and putting the mug in the dishwasher. "What were you dreaming about before?" he asked quickly, as if the previous subject bothered him. Bruce grunted, a sarcastic noise, frowning.

 "The Other Guy, obviously", he said simply, dipping a cookie into his mug. "I've been dreaming about him a lot recently."

"And what was he doing?"

Bruce stiffened. "Can we talk about something else? It's my business, if you don't mind."

"Sure, sure, pretend that nobody understands you!" Tony huffed, annoyed. "I just wanted to talk!" They were quiet for a few seconds, then Tony started up again, his tone softer.

"Sorry," he muttered sincerely. "I wanted to talk, but you're right, it's your business and I shouldn't butt in. I can't understand."

Bruce let out a harsh laugh. "Of course not," he confirmed, without really being convinced of his words. "You're a genius billionaire playboy..."

"It's not as easy as saying it, Banner."

It was Bruce's turn to apologize. "You're right. I was being stupid."

"Yeah, I'm rich, smart and fuck, am I a hot man. But money doesn't buy everything."

"Love, happiness..."

"Enough with this cheesy bullshit, Banner, come on. Love, happiness…I could buy a dog, which is more or less the same thing. I can't buy other things. Empathy, for example. Or impartial moral support."

 Bruce looked up, surprised by such an admission from the man before him, who suddenly seemed fragile. Bruce pushed aside the mug and cookies, resting his crossed arms on the table.

"Is there something you wanna tell me?"

 Contrary to what he expected, Tony didn't freeze up again. "You know... it's not that I wanna tell you something, it's that sometimes..." he stopped, looking up and softly biting his lip, like he was searching for the right words. "I'd like to stop being the iron man all the time and no matter what. Always super-confident, sarcastic about everything. But there are things you can't let show, when you're a public figure, or you'll risk ruining your image or even feeling vulnerable."

As much as he tried to hide it, his voice was weakening.

"You having problems with Pepper?" Bruce risked asking. Tony got the same expression on his face as earlier, wrinkling his brow and letting out a few strange huffs.

Bruce surprised himself by staring fixedly at Tony's lips.

"Maybe", Tony answered, giving the impression that he didn't want to go further with the conversation. Bruce smiled and got up. He reached out his hand and dared to give Tony a friendly pat on the back: at the contact with Bruce's hand, Tony seemed to freeze up.

"Everything'll work out," Bruce tried to comfort the other man. "All couples have some hard times."

"Yeah."

The room was once again immersed in silence, so thick they could almost touch it.

"I hate the quiet," Tony admitted, finally. "It makes me feel claustrophobic, too much in my head. That's probably why I can't sleep."

Bruce didn't know how to answer that. He realized he was tired again.

"Banner?"

"Huh"

"Can I ask you a favor, if you swear not to tell anybody?"

Bruce thought it was kind of a juvenile promise to make.

"Break my heart" he answered jokingly, getting an angry glare in response. "Really, I won't."

"If you tell anybody I'll kill you."

"Come on, spit it out".

Tony's gaze turned wary. "Could you give me a hug? I feel like a total idiot asking you this but I feel like I need it. I don't fucking know why..."

Bruce clumsily went over to Tony and mechanically wrapped his arms around Tony's shoulders, getting just as cold of a response. Even so, it wasn't long before Tony relaxed, lightly leaning into him, and resting his head on Bruce's shoulder.

"You're the only one that gets it," he sighed in Bruce's ear, sounding vulnerably sweet, the scent of coffee wafting to Bruce's nose. A certain part of Bruce seemed to wake up, causing a crazy image to float into his head of him even closer to his friend's face.

"Hold on," he told himself. "We're bros. Science bros and superpower bros, nothing more, and its normal for brothers to hug each other once in awhile. But why am I thinking of….damn, it must be because I don't rub one out enough and so I'm thinking strange things-..."

Those thoughts couldn't crush the warm shivers that ran up and down his back, though. Worried, Bruce stepped back from Tony.

"Why are you doing this?" Tony seemed to wake from a pleasant numbness.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just..." Bruce unsuccessfully tried to find better words that what he was about to say. "You're acting strange. Just - what, fifteen or twenty minutes ago - you told me you wouldn't mind if somebody walked in on you jerking off..."

"We all jerk off, Banner," Tony spat. "I don't see what that has to do with anything"

"...then you send me signals like you want to talk, but you don't because you're embarrassed, then you ask me to hug you. You're being weird, you know?"

Tony sighed, closing off.

"You're right. I guess it's my insomnia, the coffee, the damn silence, something's making me crazy."

"I went too far," Bruce admitted. "I'm exhausted, sorry, I talk too much and listen less"

 Tony rested his hand on Bruce's shoulder, which caused a slight shiver.

"Go to bed. You want me to give you something that'll help you sleep for thirteen hours straight with no dreams?"

"No, I'd better not." Bruce pulled away from Tony's touch, afraid of his own body's reactions. "I have to learn to live with him. If I push him down, I could worsen things. You gonna work some more?"

"Probably. Goodnight, Banner." Tony concluded, turning to go without waiting for an answer.

 

 


	2. Bittersweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a lot of personal stuff going on the past few months, but I finally finished this translation!

"What the fuck is wrong with me?"

Bruce had closed the door behind him quickly, hoping that Tony wouldn't understand how uneasy he was, and dove under the covers, curling up on his side, as usual.

He rolled over on his back, staring at the ceiling with an unfocused gaze, running over in his mind what had just happened: clumsiness which had quickly been replaced by a desire for affection, the way Tony smelled (cold and rich, just like him), his hot breath, the roughness of his imperfect goatee against Bruce's shoulder and the overpowering desire to get closer...

"Stop!", he whispered to himself harshly, stopping the flow of his thoughts.

"I haven’t had sex in eons. I’m not used to jerking off. That’s all it is," he told himself decisively. “I should just spank the monkey without thinking too hard about it and it’ll all be over.”

He slid his hand down into his shorts, starting to fantasize and touching himself without any real desire, as if  he had to carry out a boring task. He realized he hadn’t seen a naked woman aside from Natasha for some time. And now, after he had walked in on her one day in the bathroom waxing her legs, he couldn’t find her attractive, even though he knew that was a normal thing.

He closed his eyes, slowly creating an ideal woman – sexy and provocative, picturing the woman sitting on his desk, with her legs spread, sitting among the sheets of paper and sophisticated equipment that he owned: he tried desperately to give her a face but was unsuccessful.

"Relax," he told himself, starting to feel his blood flow to his groin. "I can do without a blow job."

He began moving his hand again, with innate mastery, giving his fantasies free rein and imagining himself wearing only a shirt, which the anonymous, faceless woman gracefully slid off of him, starting to alternate scratches and touches, light slaps and hot kisses... The scent of coffee wafted over Bruce who, caught in the heat of desire didn’t even notice it. He could almost touch what his mind was conjuring up, feel against him the metal of the reactor implanted in Stark’s chest...

"Stark?" Bruce found himself in his bedroom, with his cock hard in his hand, his expression shocked, amazed, scandalized. He looked around, worrying that he had been caught, but the door was closed tight. Though he was still shocked, he felt a strong wave of relief wash over him. The shock made the blood quickly leave his groin, his cock softening and losing interest.

_I_ _almost_ _miss_ _the_ _Other_ _Guy_... he found himself thinking, once again turning on his side and preparing for another sleepless night.

The atmosphere was broken by the door to his room sliding open.

"Banner?"

_Shit_ ” he thought, recognizing Tony’s voice and remaining mute while shutting his eyes tightly, pretending to be asleep and hoping that Tony wouldn’t try to force him to wake up.

"Banner, you sleeping?"

_You idiot, if I’m not answering, maybe I can’t hear you because I’m sleeping. What do you think?_

“Fuck,” he heard Tony swear, as if it were a problem that Bruce was sleeping.

This made the doctor curious, but he stayed quiet.

_We'll_ _talk_ _tomorrow_. _Come_ _on_ , he forcefully directed his thoughts. _Go_ _away_. _Go_ _away_. _Damn_ , _why can’t I_ _control other people's minds?_

Contrary to his wishes, Tony's steps came closer: he felt Tony lean against the bed, jump back up as if he had touched a hot flame and then carefully sit down once again, at Bruce’s back.

“Ok,” as much as he was trying to keep his voice down, it seemed he was incapable of whispering. “I guess this means I’ll have a chat with the wall, because if I don’t let it all out tonight, I won’t be able to say it at all.”

Tony went silent, taking a deep breath though he was panting. In that moment of silence, Bruce clearly heard a violin cord as Jarvis began to play music in the background.

Tony decided to talk.

“Mental masturbation is much worse that the physical, Bruce,” he declared, strangely calling Bruce by name. “Sure, it may be embarrassing, but what’s the big deal really? In those cases, at the most you figure out what kind of porn you like, what type of girl you like, or whether you have some kind of crazy fetish, nothing more. But when you screw yourself over with your own thoughts, and you’re sitting there worrying, and somebody asks you what’s wrong and other stupid stuff…”

Bruce's guts clenched anxiously and his thoughts raced, attempting to understand what the other man was trying to say.

"Pepper and I broke up," Tony vomited out the words.

_Believe it or not, that I actually figured out,_ Bruce thought nervously.

“I first thought it would just be a break. Too much work, too much stress, too many distractions. But as time went on I realized that it’s not a temporary thing, even though I really feel like a jerk. She’s beautiful, intelligent, she can handle me. She’s practically the perfect woman… But she’s a woman,” he stated bitterly.

Bruce began to feel angry. _So?_

Tony suddenly sucked in a breath, as if he was trying to concentrate, and Bruce clearly heard the words of the song playing, sung by a warm, fascinating male voice.

"I'm bearing a cross..."

"That's some fucking timing," Tony couldn’t help saying, clearly nervous, referring to the song, while Bruce seemed to have an epiphany.

_He's gay._ Bruce finally understood _. "He's gay and doesn't want to admit it because it would mess up his_ _macho image, but he can’t deal with it alone and he has to tell somebody. He and Steve don’t have a good relationship._ _He’s not close to Clint. As a woman, Natasha_ _might have difficulty understanding him and Thor sometimes acts like an idiot. I’m the closest thing to a brother he has_..." Another voice, sharp and pained, cut through the air.

"Bittersweet, I want you... and I need you."  

“But you don’t,” Tony said. Bruce opened his eyes, shocked.

_What the fuck did you just say?!_

“Jarvis!” Tony shouted, ignoring Bruce’s hypothetical slumber. “Lower the volume of this crap, please.” The music lowered and Bruce felt Tony lean over him, probably to check if he had woken Bruce up. Bruce made sure to close his eyes and keep his expression neutral, despite the fact that his guts were churning.

_I misunderstood,_ Bruce told himself to calm himself down. _The music was loud, he was talking too fast and I misunderstood._

Tony let out an anxious huff.

“Holy shit... I can’t even talk to the wall...”

He took a deep breath.

“For a while now, I realized that when you’re around, I feel…different...,” Tony explained, his voice soft. “I realized one day, while you were working and not paying attention to anything but the computer and your millions of notes written on papers all over your desk. I was staring at you. I felt like… a voice… was telling me to walk up behind you and rub your shoulders.”

Bruce forced himself to remain immobile.

"At first I figures that I was some kind of wish that I had a brother,” Tony went on. “You know how it is. I didn’t have a really normal family. Who knows what kind of things happen in your head when you grow up. But there was nothing brotherly in how I wanted you. Incestuous maybe.”

He let out a mirthless laugh.

“So I started thinking. At night, obviously, because I was busy during the day. I understood a lot of things about my life, the way I dealt with certain issues, and sometimes, with women, some of my opinions. Things like that. One night I found the courage to talk to Virginia about it.”

It took Bruce a few seconds to realize he was talking about Pepper.

“I told her everything. What recently happened to me, my thoughts, my feelings. She was a great confidante, I have to admit. She accepted the situation. She was stoic, even though it was clear that it made her feel awful. The problem was telling you. I hoped I could talk to you tonight, but I saw you were so nervous that…I was afraid.”

Bruce’s stomach cramped and he felt nauseous. If, on one hand, everything that had happened earlier suddenly made sense and he felt somewhat relieved, he had no idea how to handle the situation.

“I can’t say I love you, not that,” Tony admitted. “But I like you, a lot. You’re smart. You’re hot; you’re charismatic.”

_Charismatic_? _Me_?

Moved by that confession which, Bruce realized, he deeply desired, he realized he was crying tears of joy. However, his guts wouldn’t stop clenching, to the point that he let out a slight moan.

“Earlier, when you woke up so…defenceless…” Tony’s voice seemed about to break. “I really wanted to make you feel better. All those damn times that rage takes you over and everything that fucking happens, then you end up naked and scared to death I go crazy. I’m dying to tell you that you’re strong. You don’t have to be afraid of the Other Guy. And you’re a precious resource to all of us ...” Tony let out a kind of laugh.

“And I can’t deny that when you go back to being Bruce Banner after those times, and you’re hot and sweaty, you get my juices flowing". Tony stopped, while Bruce’s mind quickly ran away with him, unable to focus on a specific thought.

_Tony Stark is gay. Tony Stark is gay and wants me. And I want him._

It all seemed so simple to say, a normal relationship between two people and nothing more. But Bruce needed time, time that Tony had already had to process his own feelings. He had nothing against homosexuality; he thought it was something normal, like having blond hair instead of brown. But finding that he was suddenly attracted to a man was another thing entirely.

The music, which up to that point he could hardly hear, rose, or maybe just seemed to rise, in volume: a soft guitar chord broke the silence, and Bruce recognized it as the start of a Pink Floyd song.

"You still sleeping?"

Bruce didn't answer.

"You're worse than a hibernating bear!" he laughed. "At this point, sorry, I’m gonna take advantage.”

Tony got up. There was a rustle of fabric, a soft metallic click and, when he once again got on the bed, his weight was distributed differently.

_He’s_ _lying_ _down_. Bruce felt Tony’s coffee-scented breath getting closer, while a hand unexpectedly landed gently on his hair and Roger Waters sang sweetly in the background.

At the contact with Tony’s hand, Bruce’s guts relaxed, as if by magic, and he was suddenly smiling, tremors of pleasant expectation running through his body.

For the first time in what seemed like years, he decided to let his instincts guide him.

With a clear head, Bruce turned towards Tony, a lazy gesture, snaking his arm around Tony’s waist and putting his head on Tony’s chest, feeling the metal of the arc reactor under his cheek, in contrast with the softness of Tony’s skin.

"Open your heart... I'm coming home,” he whispered, going along with the song.

"Bruce?" Tony seemed uncertain, almost frightened.

"Shut up,” Bruce stopped him. His eyes finally closed softly, relaxed, not shut tightly. “Shut up and stay here."

"You..."

"Shhhh. We’ll worry about mental masturbation tomorrow. Sleep now, we both need it.” Tony seemed about to say something, but stayed quiet, hugging Bruce back. A few minutes passed before Bruce realized he was falling into a world of soft pillows, hot metal and Pink Floyd singing in the background.

"Together we stand, divided we fall."

There were no nightmares that night


End file.
